


Tagged

by Aamu16



Category: Gangsta. (Anime & Manga), Magi: The Labyrinth of Magic
Genre: Adopted Children, Alternate Universe - Gangsta, Alternate Universe - Reincarnation, Blood and Violence, Deaf Character, Drug Use, Ergastulum, Gangsters, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Multi, One-Sided Relationship, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Past Relationship(s), Post-Canon, Prostitution, mafia
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-13
Updated: 2018-07-19
Packaged: 2019-06-10 00:00:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,534
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15279102
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aamu16/pseuds/Aamu16
Summary: If you asked Aladdin why had he been searching for the soul that almost condemn them all he would tell you that everyone should have a second chance.If you asked Alibaba why did he want to bring Sinbad back he would tell you that because he promised.If you asked Sinbad if he wanted to go back to his world he wouldn't answer you.





	1. Alibaba's introspection

The Camera was silent as it always was before the session started, but this silence was buzzing into the ears of the presents as everyone knew the real reason why they were there that day.

Aladdin had finally managed to find Sinbad’s soul in the multiverse.

It had been five years since Sinbad disappeared, and even Ja’far was starting to doubt he would come back someday. After all, wasn’t it always like that? When your consciousness floated before reincarnating most souls tended to forget and even fragment and so the original souls were destroyed to create new ones with pieces of others patched up together.

Then there were the half-truths they have told to the rest of the world, they had presented Sinbad’s figure as a victim of David’s manipulations and then as a tragic hero that had sacrificed himself in order to destroy the Sacred Palace and give them all the freedom they all thrived for; and, after Aladdin defeated David, Sinbad had chosen to exile himself in order to cut all ties that David could have in their world.

They all had agreed not to tell anyone about Sinbad’s darkness, letting him shine like a beacon of light in History. And that’s what the rest of the world knew about Sinbad, Modern History’s biggest lie, who knew the number of times historians had changed History just like they had done.

Therefore, in the end, there was nothing new or forbidden in what they have done… or that’s what they had wanted to believe.

It had been a whimsical explanation made of half-truths and many shadows; nothing new Alibaba had learned quickly in these past years. Sometimes, in the dark of the night when Mor was already sleeping soundly and no sound would reach his ears from the far up in the skyscraper where once Sinbad lived in he wondered if this was what Sinbad saw. A web of lies and truths that some people weaved together and became _the truth_ that the rest of the world would readily believe in, making them look like idiots in the eyes of the weavers.

The skyscraper… was supposed to be his inheritance, some kind of bribery as he had been recognized as Sinbad’s protégé, and having no descendants he could be considered as good as Sinbad’s foster son; that would have meant that he would inherit the whole Sindria company, and _coincidentally_ the leaders of fellow countries and most of the Alliance would have accepted it without batting an eyelash, even welcome it as the natural next step. Kougyoku would have been happy, so would have been his master and Yamuraiha-san, and Hinahoho-san, Drakon-san, Pisti-san and Spartos-san, even Ja’far-san would have accepted it.

The Alliance leaders would have agreed as their children would have sung high praises about him and how much Sinbad has looked after him, going as far as teaching him to use his djinn equip and then sent him to the leader of the Yambala Gladiators to learn how to control his magoi, as well as sheltering him and insisting in making him learn even more styles of swordsmanship. The central points for everyone to finally believe this _parent-child_ relationship would be: A. Alibaba’s declaration by phone and Sinbad’s acceptance of his claim, B. The fact that he had taken a curse for him back when Sindria was a kingdom, C. Coming in his aide with all the Dungeon Capturers of the Seven Seas Alliance only Mor’s word and Yunan, D. When he came back to life Sinbad gave him a golden pass from Sindria Company and even put off Kou’s doubt after Alibaba asked him to.

Those were good points, more than enough to make anyone, aside from Alibaba, Aladdin and Kougyoku, believe that Sinbad had adopted him in all but paper, this happening because he was ‘dead’ before it could be put on paper and before that by the great instability caused by Kou’s defeat and the renovation process Sinbad had started himself and completed in three mere years. All in all, he could go to the leaders of almost any country and they would gladly help him do the paperwork to proclaim him Sinbad’s son.

So they resorted to bribing him with the skyscraper and —per Ja’far’s insistence, much their commercial associates displease— with Sinbad’s shares in the company… which made him the unofficial owner and main beneficiary of the company’s success. They had covered it up as saying that ‘Sinbad would have wanted to give it to you’, lies. True, there was a time when Alibaba had called himself Sinbad’s son in the name of the debt Sinbad had with his father and, true, he had seen him like a mentor and a protector… but they weren’t father and son… or at least that what Alibaba thought, but he didn’t have that much experience to affirm it —his relationship with Rashid had always been distant for one reason or another and cut off soon enough to not really give him the feeling, instead he could say pretty confidently that he knew what having siblings felt like—.

Alibaba had both feared and loved Sinbad.

But that didn’t mean _Sinbad_ had seen him like that… even now, Alibaba can only barely scrape the surface of Sinbad’s psyche. When he first tried Alibaba remembers that he was _disappointed_ by anything else, that a man capable of doing things so great as forbidding slavery and wars could be so… _imperfect_. He remembers talking about it with Aladdin one night when he was drunker than not.

“Well, in the end, he was human, like you and me, wasn’t he?”

Alibaba had never stopped to think about that ‘til he had tried to imagine how Sinbad may have felt. He had said that he had been hearing David since he lost his country and that Serendine-princess, it must have been the perfect time for David to attack. Alibaba tried to imagine it, losing Mor and Balbbad at once… it left him cold and shaking with fear, he had been unable to move ‘til Mor had asked him what was wrong, he remembered hugging her so tight she had been even more worried afterward.

No wonder he had listened to a voice like David’s that, if anything, he said the most comforting truths to wrap you around his little finger. He didn’t manage with him, but his circumstances and Sinbad’s couldn’t have been more different, he had been a slave, he had been made submit to others wishes and desires, unlike him. He had been psychologically scarred in ways Alibaba had never even begin to consider, he had always been his own man. Sinbad hadn’t.

Arba had told him that Sinbad had been so adamant in his refusal to let Kou’s princes go back because he reminded him of his younger idealistic self, Alibaba had never known if it had been a compliment or an insult, maybe he will never know, no that it matters anyway. Sinbad was returning soon, or will it be more accurate to say that they will be rescuing him soon?

Alibaba had wondered if it would be okay, if bringing Sinbad back to their world, if all the effort Aladdin and rest had done to find a viable method to bring him back was worth it, in his darkest moments he had admitted to himself that Sinbad may have been right, if they should have told everyone that he had been the big bad villain.

Then he remembered all the good he had done all alone, carrying all the burdens alone, not only his but Ja’far’s and Drakon’s and Serendine’s and every person in his kingdom; Alibaba had cracked under that pressure back in his palace’s days and that had lead him to escape and, well, him getting drunk in a cheat bar with Kassim and ended with his father dead, the palace rallied, and left the kingdom to go downhill from that moment onwards instead of staying and fixing and helping as a prince should have done. Alibaba should have rebuilt, but he didn’t; Sinbad had had all the rights in the worlds to give up and throw the towel, but he didn’t. Sinbad had been human, just like him; not a god, not a demon or anything along those lines. He had been prideful and had paid the price, twice, last time with his own life.

Other times Alibaba thought that maybe in the world where his soul had landed he had a better life than the one he had lived here, perhaps he wasn’t any great thing or important figure, perhaps he had a normal life with a normal happiness, with a wife he loved and some kids —for some reason this thought had stung a little the first time it came—, but he had been linked with David when his soul left, and that filled him with dread. What if David was screaming inside his head, or tearing any tiny bit of happiness from his hands? What if that motherfucker had made his personal mission to make his life Hell? A worse Hell than the one he had been through here —broken home, broken country, broken love, broken dreams, broken soul—? And his conviction that they had to save him renewed itself. Besides, hadn’t he promised to come back? He wouldn’t break that promise, or that was what he wanted to believe.

Whichever it was he would know if Sinbad was coming back or not in a few hours.


	2. Sinbad's smile

The session was slow at the beginning, the usual issues about this or that minor country and the borders; some asked for lower customs duties while others advocated for the magicians to find a way to restore the Earth to its former shape. And really, there were few places that looked ‘normal’ anymore, like Csitephon, Parthevia’s capital where the HQ of Sindria Trading Company was established, Alibaba’s new home.

At last, the extraordinary session of the Alliance only involved a handful of people, the ones who had been told about Aladdin’s research. The former Eight Generals of Sindria, the permanent members of the Alliance, Kougyoku, Hakuryuu, Judal, and Yunan. Of course, Alibaba, Morgiana, and Aladdin were there too, but they were busy setting all up: Mor moved the members of the Alliance to one side so they could all see the projection, meanwhile Alibaba set up the magic circle and Aladdin reviewed the spell he was about to cast.

Soon it was all set up, time to lift the curtains.

“Okay, everyone. Let’s see where Uncle Sinbad is!” Aladdin said, beaming with pride, as his teacher took her fiancé’s hand and squeezed his hand in pride and nervousness at her pupil. Sharrkan smiled and kissed her cheek to calm her a little.

The spell was a success.

There were many scenes they had imagined this would play out.

Alibaba had expected to encounter either an insane man tortured by the ghost of a long-dead magician or a happy man with a good life.

Morgiana had thought that, maybe, he was a commander of sorts, leading an army or a country, a commanding figure in a pristine uniform, discussing his plans with his advisors.

Kougyoku had imagined him as a Mafia Boss or the leader of a turf of thieves —if she was being honest sometimes she had wished him to be living a miserable life as a beggar or in prison for his crimes, but she knew that he was way to intelligent to end like that—.

Hinahoho and Rametoto had imagined him as a warrior with a great and loving family.

Spartos and Darius had imagined him as a great and well respected religious leader, someone who guided the lost ones with the help of God.

Mira and Arkaman had thought that Sinbad would have made a name for himself in the world already of course, or maybe he had only reincarnated and was a five-year-old child with too much knowledge to hide and be considered a prodigy.

Drakon, Sharrkan, and Masrur had imagined he would have a good life and be a great man, maybe a king like he had been before, or, at least, a leader who worked hard for his people and did what he must to protect them —they didn’t entertain the thought that that was exactly the kind of person he had been before Kou Civil War.

Yamraiha and Pisti had imagined that he had become an important person who wanted to support women rights and the progress made by the scientific community.

Ja’far had thought that he would have found them all, or at least him in this new world, and he was an adventurer, always searching for new horizons, across the seas or far into unknown lands… as he had always known Sinbad had wanted to do deep in his heart. He had never been really satisfied with a sedentary life, even as the Head of Sindria Trading Company he had often gazed longingly at the horizon.

 _“Ja’far, don’t sometimes wish that we could still travel the world like we used to?”_ Sinbad had asked him once; Ja’far hadn’t been able to answer. For such questions are not to be answered, because who asked the question already had the answer.

Hakuryuu hadn’t really known Sinbad besides that he was a cunning heartless man who had had the world’s best interest in mind ‘til David and Arba happened, and in the very end had wanted to do the best for the world, becoming an example of what could happen if people believed themselves above the rest. He had thought that Sinbad would disintegrate and none of him would be left or, if he had managed to hold his soul together he would remember and atone in that other world as best as he could.

Yunan thought that maybe he was a sailor, in love with the sea and breaking hearts in every Port like he would have been hadn’t he entered Vaal.

Judal didn’t know what he expected, but certainly, it wasn’t what he was seeing, Sinbad fighting with a feral smile on his face.

Sinbad was in some sort of club or brothel maybe, there were no people around, but drinks and food were left in the wake of a race to run away from the fight, tables turned and the main entrance wide open. In the center of the dimly lighted establishment a stage rose, the main focus shone over a beautiful blond woman wearing a lace long-sleeved black dress, her long hair halfway down her back. She wasn’t moving, not a single centimeter, as if she was confident that whatever was happening wouldn’t harm her in any way. He wielded a sword Aladdin recognized as a _katana_ , a typical sword of Kina Kingdom. Three knives embedded into his skin —right shoulder, left arm, between the seventh and eighth ribs—; he promptly took them out as if he didn’t feel the pain of those wounds.

 _‘I WILL KILL THAT BITCH,’_ the man yelled and turned away from the former king, going instead to the center of the stage towards the pretty woman who only raised her hand as if to say hello to someone with a calm smile on her lips, unpainted but still a dark shade of pink. Lips any man would like to bite and kiss.

The end came quickly, Sinbad severed his head in a fluid movement and landed a step in front of the blond woman; he took it and gave her a high five. They both turned towards each other and Sinbad started to make sings with his hands, but his lips didn’t move. Yamraiha gasped.

“Sinbad-sama… is deaf?” the magician whispered horrified as the conversation between the stranger and Sinbad was momentary forgotten.

“What do you mean Yamu-san?” Aladdin asked quickly, intrigued by such affirmation from his teacher.

“That sign and he didn’t react to the man when he was talking as if he didn’t even hear anything at all,” Yamraiha explained, the rest of them looked at her trying to wrap their head around the mere idea of a deaf or mute Sinbad.

 _‘Sin! Isthar!’_ Ja’far came running through the main entrance and didn’t stop to see the corpse, instead, he smacked the back of Sinbad's head and turned to glare to the blond woman, _‘What did I say about getting hurt? Or let him get hurt?’_

 _‘Oh come on, Ja-chan! It’s fine— Not!’_ She realized that Sinbad was bleeding, _‘I thought the blood was the other guy’s! You idiot!’_

Both of them started to berate at Sinbad but at the same time they took him by an arm each and started walking out of the club.

“What did we just see?” Arkaman asked as they looked between fascination and horror as they left the beheaded corpse there as if it was normal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Isthar's dress: https://www.dhgate.com/product/2015-sexy-bateau-lace-long-sleeve-black-chiffon/244619148.html#ENhp-en


	3. Yamraiha's office

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Those two are intrinsically intertwined by something else than love or care, it’s not that pure, or at least I don’t think it is.

“So, we are there,” Hakuryuu was the fastest to recover. “Which means that there’s a possibility that Sinbad-dono thinks that he _did_ come back, just further ahead in the future.”

“What makes you say that?” Mira asked; it was easier to focus on discussions about theories that could have led to this than what was happening anyway.

“Mira-dono, please look at the counter,” Hakuryuu asked, signaling the woman —based on the turquoise cocktail dress they were wearing and the long braided hair— who had poured herself a glass of whiskey on the rocks.

The woman who was helping Sinbad outside the club bid her goodbye without stopping, not wanting to stop the rhythm they have managed —Sinbad looked heavy, really—. The clubs lights were bright enough for them to recognize the Reim’s former priestess, Lady Scheherazade.

 _‘Good night, Miss Albano.’_ The blond woman looked over Sinbad’s shoulder to the back of the club were an equally blond woman sat on the bar. She chuckled and bid her goodbye lightly. _‘Bye-bye, Titus-kun.’_

 _‘Bye-bye, Isthar-san!’_ A little boy, no older than twelve years old, waved his hand enthusiastically. _‘Hey mommy, do you think I’ll be able to sing as prettily as Isthar-san when I get older?’_ Scheherazade chuckled a bit behind her hand and caressed his head.

Aladdin couldn’t believe his eyes, his friend Titus was there with Scheherazade, a very alive Scheherazade and a very happy and young Titus. Titus always seemed to be tranquil, serene, in peace with himself and the world, but there was nothing true about that.

Titus had regretted, he regretted not expending time with Scheherazade, she had given life to him, she was his mother but once had he tried to act on it while she was alive. The high priestess had tried to come close as hard as she would allow herself, which was very little, she had tried to get him away from Magnostadt get she had learned what they taught the young in that school. But he hadn’t listened, he had found Martha and made friends, he thought he had found someone who needed him, who liked him for being ‘Titus’ not one of Scheherazade’s clones like Mu and the Fanalis corps had.

But it was late when had come to understand it, much like Alibaba, who only thought about the reasons behind Sinbad’s behavior after he left with a smile and a promise. Scheherazade lasts words to Mohamed had been ‘give me back my son’, Sinbad’s last words had been ‘I promise’; both had screamed to the world ‘This is **my** child’ and both had done what they could to make sure they didn’t encounter great difficulties in their journey towards adulthood.

Once, Titus had told Aladdin that, before parting to Magnostadt, Scheherazade had told him ‘you’ll hurt and you’ll lose, that’s the bloody bloody truth’, it had been so out of character of her that it had stuck to Titus’ mind. Aladdin, to be honest, had thought that in truth the ones who had lost the most had been Scheherazade and Sinbad, after all, what parent would like to lose their child? The boy had the firm belief that the moment Sinbad had lost Alibaba had been the moment when David’s voice had struck him hard enough to make him lose the way; that was one thing where his friend and him disagreed, Alibaba insisted that David had poisoned Sinbad’s mind slowly but tirelessly, Aladdin defended that David’s voice had struck in the worst moments of Sinbad’s life and during his grieving period, the greater the loss, the longer the time he would grieve, and with each tear he didn’t shed David’s voice gained strength. Wasn’t that what had happened in the Sacred Palace? Sinbad had stopped, he had listened and had finally made peace with his past and himself, he had been willing to work together with them towards a new future.

But that was just Aladdin’s opinion on the matter.

“Scheherazade… it wouldn’t be strange to think that having met even a distant figure like Reim’s priestess,” Mira still referred to her by her title, despite having witnessed her dismissal, “that he had indeed come back, I would believe that from any other man, but not from Sinbad.”

“I agree with Mira-san, Sinbad-san would realize the lack of magic.” Alibaba had noticed that there was nothing magical about the place, not a single light was an artifact, in fact, they were like glass with something inside. But what gave away that it wasn’t a magical artifact was the light: it was unclear, a little dirty; completely different from what they had managed to create already. Therefore there was no way Sinbad hadn’t realized, which meant that his memories were either juggled or he didn’t remember at all… it was the second possibility that scared them the most.

It would be easy to deal with someone whose memories were just a bit off, but treating someone with amnesia and as dangerous as they had seen would be near impossible. This was the first time Alibaba had felt fear of what _Sinbad_ could _physically_ do to him, which would be a lot if the way he had gracefully beheaded that guy was anything to go by.

 _‘Sinbad-san?!’_ The Yamraiha in the reflection wasn’t amused to see the purple haired man being dragged around into her office. _‘What happened?’_

 _‘This idiot overdosed, again.’_ Ja’far glared daggers at the man he was helping standing. The terms ‘overdose’ and ‘Sinbad’ didn’t belong together in the same sentence, much less if they were paired with ‘again’.

She was wearing beige trousers, a plain pink t-shirt and a white coat Aladdin had seen when they did experiments in the Academy —but only if his teacher had a reunion after it, normally she didn’t care for her clothes, focused as she was in her investigation—. Only her high ponytail stood up, a few strands of hair framed her pretty face but her trademark red hair decoration was missing as well; her look was practical and pretty, and, if Ja’far had brought Sinbad to see her, Yamraiha must have been some sort of doctor there.

Although at the moment she wasn’t all that happy, Yamraiha oozed a black and purple aura at the moment, enraged and seemly affronted at Sinbad’s state.

 _‘Sin-bad-san… What did I tell about abusing your meds? Um? Do you want me to send Sphintus to your house every day with your daily dose?’_ Sinbad shook his head wildly, a bit pale, but that was expected by the blood loss. Soon Yamraiha sighed and pointed one of the beds at her right. _‘I can’t believe it, you’re a_ Twilight _. Please, think a bit more about your health, you already have a shortened lifespan, stop making it shorter. What will do Aladdin-kun and Alibaba-kun if you leave even sooner than what you’re supposed to?’_

Yamraiha started working as soon as the Twilight hit the bed, tore apart his shirt, cleaned and disinfected his wounds. She didn’t appreciate anything especially nasty —which by her standards meant that the wound was a clean and the bastard who had lost his head tonight had been nice enough not to cut important shit like organs or tendons—, not that it meant that she would do something nice for him like praying.

So she put him under local-anesthetic and patched the man up, after dressing his wounds helped him to lay down with Ja’far’s help.

 _‘Ja-chan, will you stay while I go tell the Alibaba and Aladdin? I promise I’ll bring you a change of clothes,’_ the blond —Isthar— told him.

 _‘Ah, Isthar, I’ll—’_ Ja’far tried to stop her. She was the one who should stay by Sin’s side, not him. After all, that was what Sin wanted as well, when he first opened his eyes they would always look for Isthar first and she knew; the same was true too, the first time Ja’far had seen Sinbad relegated to one of Yamraiha’s beds Isthar had let Sinbad grab her hand while Sharrkan held him down and Yamraiha took out the bullets —they had been short of anesthetic that day—, he almost broke her hand but she never complained once. Isthar had even stayed the night sleeping into a very uncomfortable metal stool and half her body into Sin’s bed.

 _‘I’ll be back before you know it!’_ The woman chirped and almost ran out of the door in her hurry to get out.

_‘Why did she…?’_

_‘Isthar-san… well, she had been with Sinbad-san for as long I have known them. But it looks like she loves and hates him, right?’_ Ja’far nodded, sitting on a stool beside the thin bed where Sinbad had just fallen asleep. Yamraiha took out a smoke and stood by the window, not wanting for Sin to breathe it in. _‘Once, he brought her in after someone had tried to force themselves on her, Isthar kicked his balls and run all the way to Miss Albano’s club,_ Reim _. Next day the stalker tried again with a bunch of idiots… Sinbad slaughtered them on the spot, I have never seen his eyes so wild or him covered in so much blood as that night when she brought him in to get him checked. Of course, the press didn’t wind any of it; nor it had consequences, the big four wanted that turf gone after all._

 _‘So it’s mutual…’_ Either Ja’far was happy with such development, but it wasn’t something all that new… that his love fell for someone else, in that blood-bathed world or the other.

 _‘You could say that, but there’s something that doesn’t quite fit, don’t you think? If Isthar loved him all that much she would have asked you to tell the kids, and if Sinbad loved her he wouldn’t look so guilty at that scar on the side of her neck would he?’_ Yamraiha knew that she was babbling now more than anything but maybe if she could plant those doubts in Ja’far, he would finally see reason and get out of Ergastulum before it was too late… or maybe it was already too late for him. _‘Ja’far-san those two are intrinsically intertwined by something else than love or care, it’s not that pure, or at least I don’t think it is.’_


End file.
